Repeat After Me

Chapter 13

'The school called today,' mum said as I walked in the front door. For a moment I felt panicked, wondering if the security guard had somehow dobbed me in. But it was impossible, I wasn't wearing a school uniform or anything.

'What's it about?' I asked.

'It was your art teacher, he wanted to talk to us about your prospects.'

'Prospects?'

'He wants to speak to both of us, your dad and I. What's this all about?'

'Mr Colter thinks I should go to art school.'

'Oh, is that it? Well, that's good ... But there's no jobs at the end of it. It's very competitive, you know. So you'll need a backup plan.'

'What's Josh's backup plan?'

'Huh?'

'Why aren't you telling Josh to have a backup plan? He's just scraping through school, and only because he's good for their sports results. What's Josh's backup plan?'

'Well he could do anything ... he could do physio or sports psychology or coaching ...'

'Tennis is competitive.'

'Of course.'

'Then why aren't you telling him that he might fail ... because you're always telling me that I'm bound to fail.' She stared at me dumb and open mouthed.

'You always screw my words,' she says.

'No. Your words are always screwed.' I pushed right past her, my feet scuffing her freshly vacuumed steps. When I got up to my room, I closed my door, and sat on my bed with my hands in my lap, feeling angry and worked up and confused, wondering why I'd just spoken to my mother like that. I'd just flipped out. Snapped. I wondered if I was getting my period, or maybe this quarantine thing was getting to me. It was too much time at home, and not seeing enough people, and an undercurrent of uncertainty and anxiety. And the one person who I was seeing was the one who was really screwing with my mind and feelings. Asten.